The Test of Time
by Natalie3
Summary: When someone from the future with a grudge against Lex gets involved with an experiment involving time-travel, things get messy...
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: As sad as it is, not all of these characters belong to me. The narrator does, as does Eddy, but Lex isn't. ::sniff:: Anyway, please don't sue me; I have no money. Enjoy the story! I love reviews!  
  
  
  
The Test of Time  
  
  
"There must have been a moment at the beginning, where we could have said-no. But somehow we missed it..."  
  
-Guildenstern from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, by Tom Stoppard.  
  
  
  
  
  
Eddy says that I should write down what happened, that it might help me to "sort out all of that crazy anger." I asked him where should I start, seeing as if I started at the chronological beginning, the middle would start long before I got to the beginning or the present, which I suppose has to be counted as the end. Eddy said that for a story like mine, chronology can be ignored, so "just start wherever it starts in your memory." Eddy's probably right. He's very smart, you know. I hate him so much. I'd like to mash his face into a bloody, featureless pudding. I hate him almost as much as I hate Luthor. But I'll get to that later, or earlier, depending on how you decide to look at this.  
  
To me, it all seemed to start when LexCorps bought out the company my mother worked for in what all the newspapers called 'a hostile takeover.' My family was never really rich, so it wasn't like the fall of the Hardwicks or something, but it's still painful to go from anything to nothing at all, especially when it's not clear what to do next. Mom came home, and her eyes were dry as dust. She hated 'making scenes' and I never saw her cry. I heard her though; sometimes at night she'd call out for my father. I was always glad that Katy's room was farther down the hall so she wouldn't hear. I always wanted to protect my kid-sister. But I couldn't do much the next morning when I heard her screaming. I ran to where she was standing, holding open the bathroom door. I looked over her shoulder, and shut the door abruptly.   
  
There are some things that little kids just shouldn't see.   
  
Things like their mother's body hanging in the bathroom with her wrists slit open.  
  
That was the same day I met Eddy.   
  
I was prowling around the LexCorps main building, and actually had made it sixty flights up, and past three receptionists. I'll admit that I wasn't thinking very clearly. All I could think about was the fact that Luthor had killed my Mom, and that I hadn't said good-bye to her. I was there for Luthor's blood, though I know that sounds cliché. I find myself wondering how he feels about that cliché. I realize now that the security cameras must have spotted me early on, and that Luthor then ordered Eddy to intercept me...  
  
I was creeping down the hall, trying to figure out just where Luthor's office was. I figured it had to be big, but so far all I had passed were cubicles, miles and miles and miles of cubicles.  
  
I had just started to wonder if I might risk actually asking directions, (a task no other assassin had ever dreamed about!) when a sudden howl sounded from right behind me. I whirled around and came face to face with the strangest creature I had ever seen. It was something between a monkey in shape, and a skunk in coloring. It had a rather petulant face, and long clever fingers, which it now stretched out and tried to pull my hair.  
  
I fell back a step, and finally noticed that the creature was perched on a man's shoulder. It's kind of incredible that it took me that long to notice him, because he was the most enormous man I had ever and probably will ever see. He was definitely well over seven feet tall, quite possibly eight. Just one of his fists was the size of my head. He exuded that air of power and lack of caring that one would normally only associate with something like a tank, or maybe Superman. I wouldn't know. I've never been around a tank, and the closest I got to Superman was one time I saw him flying, but he was really high up. I could barely make out the bright red cape. This guy didn't have blue tights and a red cape, but he did have what looked like a pair of bright blue rubber overalls and what appeared to be a jacket, but I suspect began its existence as a tent. He had glasses that might have fit a baby elephant, and blond hair that puffed out like Einstein's, but was much longer, and (if you can believe it) much messier. I think you could quite easily have lost something the size of a house-cat in his mane.  
  
His eyes seemed to act like a scanner at an airport, running a beam of light all the way down your body, and then back up. It was definitely disturbing. I started to back away, then discovered to my chagrin that there was a wall directly behind me.  
  
"I've been looking for you," he announced suddenly. His voice was a low bass, but it was still much higher than you'd expect from someone who puts trucks to shame.  
  
My mind was whirling and I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say, so I did the next best thing and asked the first question that presented itself.   
  
"Why?"  
  
He grinned, and the monkey/skunk creature started chattering and screeching on his shoulder. "I need a test subject. You see, I've invented a time machine."  
  
"A time machine?" I repeated, my incredulity getting ahead of my sense. "Come on. I like science fiction, but..."  
  
"But nothing!" the guy yelled, waving his arms around, making me truly fear for my life. He raked his fingers through his hair, making it even messier, and leaned over me, with his stinking breath in my face and his watery blue eyes intent. "I've invented a real time machine! I've sent living organisms back through time and space! Spunkers here has visited ancient Rome!" He turned to face the little animal and said in a sing-song voice, "Haven't you, Spunkers! Yes you have! Yes you have! All the way back to Julius Caesar! And you had fun, didn't you! Yes you did!"  
  
I really wished that I could back away, and not slowly either. This guy was clearly insane. "Well, congratulations. I hope you get a Nobel Peace prize or something. I'll read about you in the paper." I kept talking. I'm not even sure what I said, but the look in his eyes was scaring me.  
  
"All I need to do now is test it on humans!" He gripped my arm and began tugging me down the hall. "And you'll be able to report back! Tell me if I'm successful!"  
  
I gripped a passing doorknob. "I'm kind of in the middle of something," I protested, but, as he obviously wasn't listening to me, I shut up. He pressed his hand up against a panel on the wall and a door slid open.  
  
"Come on," he exclaimed.  
  
Any ideas I had of running died when I entered that room. It was actually a very ordinary looking room, as mad scientist's laboratories go, but it was the small telephone booth in the middle that caught my eye. It wasn't really a telephone booth, of course, but that's what it looked like. It was about eight feet tall, and surrounded by what resembled several strings of Christmas lights.  
  
"That's it?" I asked, surprised. I guess I had expected something bigger, flashier, I don't know, just...neater looking.  
  
"That's it!" he replied, clearly not picking up on my disappointment. "And now, we're about to make history! Literally!"  
  
You know, it was ten minutes later (well, actually, thirty years earlier, if you really want to get technical about it) before I realized he had been making a joke.  
  
"Now then," he gestured to the phone booth. "Climb in."  
  
"Um...no?" I edged for the door.  
  
He did something on the controls and a featureless sheet of metal clanged down across the door. It wasn't actually a whole lot more effective then just locking it would have been, but it definitely helped with the intimidation factor. I jumped back like a startled rabbit.  
  
"Get in. Oh, and my name's Eddy, just so you'll know what to tell the reporters," he added gleefully.  
  
I stepped into the booth, which was humming and beeping slightly. "Where exactly are you going to send me?" I asked, deciding to humor him. I still couldn't quite wrap my mind around the idea of a time machine.  
  
"Oh, not where. When. Can't be too far back, or your clothes'll stand out too much. I wouldn't want you getting hurt or killed by a crazy mob."  
  
"Glad that you agree with me on important points like that," I muttered.  
  
Eddy looked up very suddenly. "I'm not completely crazy, kid," he said quietly. "Maybe I am a little lacking in the sanity department, but most geniuses are. Couldn't be a mad-scientist if I wasn't mad, now then could I!" His fingers slid around the keys. "You should be safe. You're going to reappear in Metropolis; just it was thirty years ago. I only want you to stay long enough for me to get a good report out of you. I'm going to pull you back only a few hours after I send you. Try to stay out in areas that you know are still parks and things. It wouldn't do for me to bring you back to now, and have you standing inside a chunk of concrete or something."  
  
"Wha-" I choked, suddenly realizing that this was LexCorps, and if it actually was possible to build a time machine, Luthor would be the man who would have it done.  
  
"You're right," he replied thoughtfully to my incomprehensible exclamation. "Maybe I should send you out of Metropolis. But I don't want to send you too far afield. How about Smallville, know where that is?"  
  
I had some vague recollection of some tiny little nowhere town, but there were dozens of those. I shook my head.  
  
"It's near here. Mr. Luthor actually used to live there a long time ago. Far away enough to grant him privacy, close enough to let him access the city if necessary."  
  
"Now wait, shouldn't we..."  
  
"Cross your fingers, kid! I've never tried this with a human being!"  
  
The door to the booth slammed shut. The beeping got louder and more alarmed. The buzzing seemed to fill the whole booth, and it started rattling around. The little red lights that had lined part of the walls and the ceiling flickered out. I screamed when that happened, because being trapped in dark, tiny little places is definitely not one of my favorite things.  
  
Then it all stopped and the door slid open with a relaxed sounding whoosh.  
I jumped out as fast as I could, and found myself standing in the middle of a field of corn. I spun around in a total 360. Nothing but corn was in sight.  
"Eddy?" I yelled. Surely a man that large, can't just melt away, much less an entire building, and city!  
  
To be continued...  
  
  
  
  
Review! You know you want to! Please? 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: As sad as it is, not all of these characters belong to me. The narrator does, as does Eddy, but Lex isn't. ::sniff:: Anyway, please don't sue me; I have no money. Enjoy the story! I love reviews!  
  
  
  
The Test of Time  
  
  
"Oh God!" I leaned against the booth...the time machine to catch my breath. It had worked. I had really been transported. Even if it wasn't through time, (and I had little enough reason to doubt that at this point) I had obviously traveled a significant distance in the last few seconds. The trip, although frightening, had not been sufficiently rough or long enough to have been caused by my being catapulted through the air or something.  
  
I finally calmed my shaking hands and managed to get a grip. I know it sounds silly to someone who's never been though it that I was so disoriented and shaken, but the experience is more disturbing than you might expect. I shoved my hand in my pockets, and discovered the gun that I had brought with me to kill Luthor. What a distant dream that was turning out to be.  
  
Or, was it?  
  
Eddy had said that Luthor had lived around here, if here really was the place he had meant to send me, what had it been called? Littleville, or something. If I was lucky, (and my luck seemed bound to improve soon, seeing as it couldn't get a whole lot worse) now was the time that Luthor had lived here. I found to my surprise that I knew almost nothing of Luthor's early life.  
  
I set off determinedly in a completely random direction, making sure to keep the sun to my left so that I wouldn't wander in circles. The walk felt long, but that was simply because my brain was feeling fairly overwhelmed with all the possibilities of this. Dozens of scenes from Back to the Future kept playing through my mind.  
  
Finally, I found myself out on a little dirt road. It was empty, and there was nothing but corn in sight in either direction. I stood there, uncertain of which way to go. There wasn't even anyone I could ask. Then I heard a loud roaring in the far distance, and then in the not so far distance and then a Porsche slid by me at a pace that would have made any car-lover drool.  
  
I'm not a car-lover, but I was happy to see that Porsche, because while I didn't know a whole lot about Littleville or wherever, I would've been ready to swear that there couldn't be too many people driving Porsches around there. I turned and began walking in the direction the car had gone. I hadn't gone too far before I saw the mansion. It was huge, dark, stone, and forbidding enough to make even Edgar Allan Poe speechless, for a moment at least. Mansion is really putting far too small a value on it. Castle would have suited it much more.  
  
Tall iron gates fiercely guarded the entrance. I studied them carefully, then slid between. There was a bad moment involving my right leg, but I got through okay and in one piece, if a bit scraped and bruised. I didn't see any cameras on my way up, but that didn't necessarily mean much.  
  
Inside, it seemed almost bigger than outside. It was the same old problem of not knowing quite where to go. I finally located him only by pure luck. I heard someone talking and followed the voice up a flight of stairs, around two corners, and into a large office.   
  
The way stone carries sound is such a beautiful thing.  
  
By the time I was in his office I could actually hear what he was saying. He was in one of those spinning computer chairs, and at the moment that I entered he was turned away, a phone pressed to his ear. It was definitely a rant, which was going something like this.  
  
"Look, that system needs to be updated! No! I do not want to hear excuses! Anyone can just barge on in here, and-" At this point he completed his spin we saw each other's faces. I was amazed to see that he looked virtually identical to the Luthor of my time. Maybe the Luthor of the past wasn't quite as heavy and had a few less wrinkles, but I would have known him all the same.  
  
"Excuse me a moment, yet another example of your incompetence has just wandered in with a gun. Hopefully, I'll call you back. If I don't, consider yourself sued." The phone beeped and he tossed it on his desk. "So, what can I do for you that doesn't end with a bullet located at some uncomfortable place in my body?"  
  
It was at this unfortunate juncture that my conscience woke up, and began muttering about how killing a man AFTER he had committed a crime was one thing, but killing him BEFORE had some serious moral complications.  
  
"I just...I want...wanted you dead..." I said brokenly.  
  
He folded his arms across his chest and regarded me with a bored expression. "So are you going to tell my exactly why you want me dead, or should I just try to guess?" he asked sardonically.  
  
When I didn't answer, he tilted back in his chair and placed the tips of his fingers together. "Well, the most obvious possibility is the usual: My father has screwed your family over in some way and you're here for revenge against him and/or the Luther clan in general."  
  
"Your father's not involved," I answered quietly.  
  
"Really." He seemed more intrigued than anything else. "That's unusual. I'm afraid I don't recognize you. Do you mind telling me, reacquainting me with the details?" His smile was bitter. "You can consider it a last request."  
  
"You haven't changed a bit," I said softly. "Thirty years didn't change you."  
  
"Thirty years?" Now he frowned. "I don't think that's possible kid. I haven't been around for thirty years, and I doubt you have either."  
  
My conscience made up its mind at this point, and I flicked the safety off. "No, but you will be, or rather, you would have been."  
  
That was about when time stopped. I'm pretty sure I hit the trigger, or tried to. But Eddy was standing there, his hand over mine. "You can't kill him without destroying our future."  
  
"It's a terrible future!"  
  
"Think of what you're doing! If he dies, who will fund my research? If I never invent a time-machine, you will never come here, and he will live, and he will fund my research, and you will come here, and you will kill him, and he won't fund my research, and I'll and never invent a time-machine, you will never come here, and he will live, and he will fund my research, and you will come here, and you will kill him, and he won't fund my research, and the circle would go on ad infinitum!"  
  
"Ad nauseam is more like it," another voice broke in. I turned and saw Luther, the one that I knew. He stepped past Eddie and me and looked at his younger self, frozen in time. "How unhappy I look," he commented casually. He might have been looking at a photograph.  
  
"Well, you did just have a gun pointed to your head," I explained, struggling to get it back from Eddy.  
  
He smiled then. That was when I became truly afraid of Luther. The man had compassion for no one-not even himself.  
  
"Come along Eddy. And bring your little pet. I'm afraid we can't have it running about the city trying to kill various people."  
  
"Only you Luthor." Eddy had the gun now, and one of my arms was being firmly held in his massive paw. Maybe if I had been the hero type I would have done something, but I'm not, and from where I stood, it didn't look like there wasn't much to be done.  
  
Eddy brought us all back in his time machine. Naturally, he never explained to me how he had managed to actually stop time, but not me. Presumably, Luthor remembered the incident, and when he saw me on the security system, remembered his murderous, vanishing visitor, and had sent Eddy to intercept. Or maybe there's no such thing as free will, and it was all fated. For you see, what I planned to do, I had already done, so did I ever even have a choice? The problem is too complicated and difficult for me. Besides, what's the point in working it out? As soon as my usefulness to Eddy is gone, I will be too.  
  
It doesn't matter anymore. My life isn't worth much now; I'm too full of hate. Hate for my own stupidity and inability to complete my task. Hate for Eddy, who brought me so close, then took it all away. And most of all, hate for Luthor.  
  
May he rot in Hell.  
  
Amen.  
  
  
  
FINIS  
  
  
  
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